Unexpected
by HedyLamarr
Summary: How Alyx's perspective on Gordon has changed over time.


Unexpected

Age 3: she slipped out of her dad's office and went skipping along the corridor. She never stepped on cracks. For a while, she concentrated on making her steps go in time with the rhyme her mom had taught her the night before. Then she tried to see how many tiles she could cross with one step. Never stepping on the cracks. When she came to a door she couldn't open she looked up, and realised with a stab of fear that she didn't know where she was. A sob caught in the back of her throat, and she made little keening noises as she turned around and around, looking for something she recognized. She gasped when the door opened suddenly. A man came through and stood above her.

"Oh… er…" For a moment he just stood there staring at her, and that made her start to cry. He moved quickly then, and lifted her into his arms. He held her awkwardly, not like Mommy or Daddy, but he was gentle, and he smelled safe. He turned her so that he could see her face. He made shushing noises, and dried her face with the sleeve of his white coat like Daddy sometimes did. His glasses reminded her of Uncle Izzy, and she smiled. He smiled back, and laughed when she reached out and grabbed his hair. It was a colour she'd never seen before. She liked him. But when she looked down, she noticed he was walking on the cracks.

He carried her to his office and sat her in a chair. He reached into his desk and pulled out Legos. She played with them while he made a phone call. Moments later, her dad came bursting in and scooped her up and held her tight.

"Alyx, I was so worried! Don't ever wander off like that! I'm taking you home right now." He placed his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Thanks, Gordon." They left the office, but after a few steps, her Daddy turned back and stuck his head through the office door. "Listen… don't mention this to Azian, ok?"

Age 15: she had grown up in hardship and danger, and she had faced the brutality and oppression of the Combine every day of her life, but she had never felt as angry as she did now. The emotion was so intense, she almost enjoyed it, and she let it suffuse her, carrying her along on a wave of righteousness. Her best friend, her idol, her sister in all but name was dead. She was a year older than Alyx, and she had been killed on her first mission. The unbearable injustice of it burned inside her, and she burst into the lab to confront her father.

"I'm leaving now, dad. I'm going to the training camp, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!" Eli regarded her with sorrow in his eyes. He knew what she was going through, and he also knew that she would never believe him if he told her so.

"I don't have to stop you, sweetie. You know they won't take anyone before they're sixteen. Why don't you come over here, and talk about it with me?" Eli had insisted on this rule. In truth, many rebels were younger, it wasn't as if there was any documentation that could be checked when they joined; but Eli felt it was important to maintain some standard of humanity. After all, that was why they were fighting.

The expression of exaggerated disbelief on Alyx's face, however, was almost comical.

"Talk about it? Maria is dead, and all you want to do is talk? All we ever do is talk! Why aren't we taking the fight to the Combine, dad? That's what I want to know!" She slammed her hands down on the desk and stared at him, challenging, triumphant.

"Alyx… the time isn't right yet. When it comes, I promise you'll be right in the thick of things." He paused. "As long as you're sixteen."

"What's the point in waiting? We're probably all going to die anyway, might as well just, y'know, get it over with." She knew that hearing her talk like that pained him, but she didn't care, reveling instead in her own misery.

"We just need to wait for a certain factor to fall into place. The right man, in the wrong place, at the right time…" His voice had a musing quality to it, as if he was quoting words he'd heard somewhere before. But she didn't care.

"Diego can do it!" Diego lead the squad that guarded Black Mesa East. He was twice her age, inappropriate, and therefore extremely desirable in her eyes. He also had undeniable combat skills. But her father shook his head.

"He's a good man but he's not the right one." He looked at her with his head slightly to one side, as though debating whether to share something with her. Eventually, he moved over to the bulletin board, and tapped a photo that had been tacked up there.

"Gordon Freeman."

"What? That dork with the stupid glasses and the God-awful ponytail? Please tell me, dad, this has got to be one of your jokes, right?

"Some of the things he did at Black Mesa, honey, you're to young to remember, but – "

"I'm not too young to remember that he caused this whole mess. He killed mom, dad! Remember? And now you come to me and tell me he's somehow the answer to this whole situation, well you can just – aaaaaaah!"

She had been too well raised to actually curse at her father, but she felt a shriek got the point across just as well as she stormed out in tears. If Gordon Freeman did ever come around, she was going to tell him exactly what he'd done to all of them. After she knocked him on his skinny nerd ass.

Age 21: she moved through the city like a cat, using rooftops, fire escapes, and abandoned attic rooms. It was strange, she mused, that she likened herself to a cat, even though she'd never actually seen a living one. Language was like the human spirit, she decided. The Combine could change your environment, but they couldn't change what was inside you. Well, not unless you let them, she added as she slipped behind a group of CPs. As for the Combine, she had faith that their days were numbered. The time her father had spoken of so often had come around. Gordon Freeman had arrived in City 17, and she was going to bring him in.

Something certainly seemed to have stirred up CP. Hopefully, Freeman had something to do with that. Part of her was looking forward to his arrival. She knew what he looked like when he was younger, but so much time spent living in the badlands outside the Combine's grasp must have changed him. She pictured him as a grizzled warrior, deeply tanned, lean and mean. Maybe with a cool scar. Part of her couldn't stop thinking about the devastation he'd caused, admittedly by accident. Her mother… She didn't know how she would feel when she finally met him.

Barney had told her the route he would be following, and she knew she must be getting closer when she saw a small group of cops break into a run. She followed them cautiously. When they entered a building, she quickly scaled the wall and slipped into the stairwell via a window. She could see a figure moving a little way below.

This was the man who had caused the world to end. He was smaller than she had imagined, and his hair was short. He wore overalls like everyone else, a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles and a neatly trimmed beard. She frowned. Things must be a lot more civilized in the badlands than she had imagined. He stopped suddenly as a cop stepped out of the shadows in front of him. When he turned, the group she had seen entering the building came up behind. He turned back, feinted left, then tried to break past the lone cop on his right, but a painful looking blow to the side drove him back into the middle of the group. His shoulders sagged for a second, but then he raised his fists. She nodded her approval. He didn't look like a fighter, but at least he was willing to give it a try. He swung suddenly at the cop between him and the door. A blow to the back of his neck drove him to his knees. Then they all closed on him, batons raining down. She watched as he tried to shield his head and kidneys, rolling towards the wall, trying to brace his back so that he could stand again. The situation was hopeless, but he wanted to die on his feet. That was good enough for her.

After she had dealt with the cops, she checked Freeman's pulse and his breathing, rolled him into the recovery position, and poured a little water onto his face. His scalp was bleeding, and she pressed a cloth against the wound until it stopped. Soon, he began to stir. When he opened his eyes, she saw that they were bright green. A jolt of feeling went through her then, it was surprising, entirely different from anything she had expected. But there was no time to stop and analyse.

"Dr Freeman, I presume?"


End file.
